About Living the Wild Life

Q: What exactly is this “wild life” of which you speak Bridgette? It sounds a little sketchy to me.

A: Dear gentle reader: It is totally sketchy. And if you’re really doing it up, it’ll be more than a little scandalous in some circles. It can also be extremely disruptive and usually busts into your life quite rudely. And yet, with all this, you still feel the pull. The pull within you to live your deep truth. The pull to wake up and fully step into your life.

Yawning lionesses are totally sketchy–and wild.

You see, living the wild life requires listening to your truth. You know, that pesky damn truth that you can’t seem to push away. Your truth that whispers hints of your wild life to you. Hints that frankly might scare the shit out of you.

But, the whispers are there, and it’s getting harder (and less desirable) to drown them out.
I don’t know what your whispers say,
Perhaps they call you to adventure:
to get outside, take that martial arts class like you’ve always wanted, to travel the world, or howl with the wolves.
Perhaps they whisper,
Something needs to change:
a relationship, a career, a habit or a pattern that no longer serves you.
Perhaps the whispers just sound like annoying gibberish in your ear.
Perhaps the truth is,
you’ve never really listened.
Yet you feel the pull to start listening.
This is the pull of your wild life.

Poet Roger Housden says:

The truth is wild; it is dangerous. It upsets things, brings down branches that were rotten on the tree, dislodges stones whose foundations were already shaky. It sorts the wheat from the chaff in our lives. The wild is uncompromising; its terms are always nonnegotiable, and it would rather die than not be true to what it knows. …It is always a wild ride, whoever you are, to be true to what you know in your heart in the face of the power of conformity.

First of all, if you don’t know about Roger Housden, check him out pronto. I’m a raving rockstar fan of this man.
Second of all, (Heads up: this is why the wild life scares the shit out of us.)
when we start living in accordance with our deep truth, the ride gets wild.
It will be disruptive.
At the very least, it’s disruptive to your current way of thinking.
At its most extreme, your life may look like a dainty small bomb went off.
(Ok, so it could look like one of those giant bunker-busting bombs went off, but doesn’t dainty small bomb sound nicer?)
Anyway, bombs might go off.
But it’s also AMAZING—
not in the way I usually say amazing which is how I describe just about everything—
but as in amazement.

Deep joy and passion.
Delight.
Deep connection to self and others.
Love.
Awe.

The wild life is worth it. That’s why you open yourself to it, because it’s already there within you, dying to get out.

Living the wild life is not a process of going out there to find your fire.
It’s about peeling away the conventional crap you picked up along the way that tells you how you should be and what you should do.
What you’re left with is what’s in your soul.
Living the wild life is about living your soul’s truth.

And then—get this—my man Housden says:

Of course, conventional wisdom will call you mad enough for even thinking of such an adventure—all the more so when you start out in the middle of the night. Yet the true journey of your life requires a kind of madness. After all, from the standpoint of your old life, you may be throwing everything away for nothing. You do not even know what you’re headed toward. Yet the first step can only ever be taken in darkness. You cannot know where it will take you. You cannot plan for this sort of journey because the entire undertaking relies on the unreasonableness of faith. Faith is unreasonable because it rests on no tangible evidence. It is beyond belief.

This is where faith comes in.

The wild life is the ultimate call to action,
The deep call within you to fall.
To let go and fall into who you really are,
To fall away from convention,
To fall into your truth.
This requires faith, because honestly, you can’t know how it’s all going to work out.

Hell, half the time (and when I say half I mean most)
You won’t even know where you’re going.
You’ll just follow the pull—the pull of your passion.
And you’ll need a boatload of faith to hang in there.
Faith in what you ask?
You get to decide.
For me, it’s faith in the Universe—
Faith that there’s a larger guiding force that I can turn to for help,
A force that’s benevolent and working on my behalf.
For you, perhaps it’s God, the Universe, nature, Gaia, Socrates, your cat.
(However, I am not convinced cats always have your back so be forewarned as I think Fluffy would be the first to eat your face should you meet with an unfortunate calamity, but your choice.)

Which leads me to passion.

Passion is the force that pulls you into the wild life.

It’s that desire to feel something,
I mean really feel something.
To be lit up by your own life.
To savor all the small moments.
To be fully you.

This isn’t about living a “big” life, in that strident “GO BIG OR GO HOME!!!!!” way.
As a matter of fact,
Your form of living the wild life with faith and passion may be to make your life smaller, simpler,
to savor more and stress less.
Ahhhhh, that sounds really lovely.
Your wild life may be shuttling the kids less and reading more books—that would be pretty wild for a lot of moms I know.
Or maybe all you know right now is that you’re tired, so very tired.
In that case, follow the pull of rest and pursue it with passion.
What would be the most delicious rest you could imagine?
Create that with faith and passion.
Passion is the breadcrumb on the trail of your wild life journey, follow them.
And go in faith.

I’ll be right here, cheering you on,
sharing what I’ve learned,
hosting the conversation,
providing a safe haven and a home base.